


Winner Takes All

by fimbrethiel



Series: Games of Love [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canon Compliant, Complete, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Threesome - M/M/M, Twincest, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:38:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3209537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fimbrethiel/pseuds/fimbrethiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During a game of cards, the sons of Elrond decide to make a private wager, and the Golden One will be the prize.  They have a witness, who will soon meet someone who will change his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don’t own the Elves, they are owned by Tolkien’s estate. Master Tolkien, I mean no harm. No profit has been made.
> 
> Betas: Helena, Donna, NimrodelJen, Orchyd Constyne (various chapters)
> 
> Original date of completion: June 8, 2004 (revised January 2015)
> 
> Winner of the 2004 My Precious Award for hottest adult-rated story!
> 
> Author’s Note 1: I was inspired by a memory Aragorn had in Laurelin’s ‘A River’s Tale’, where he witnessed Glorfindel and Erestor having sex in Elrond's library. Laurelin graciously allowed me to use her imagery and write a little interlude of my own. Unfortunately, Laurelin's story seems to have disappeared from every archive I searched. You'll all just have to trust me that it was smoking hot. :)
> 
> The ring Estel wears is, obviously, the ring of Barahir.
> 
> Author's Note 2: This story was originally published way back in 2004 on other archives, in a very slightly different form. I've tweaked it a bit, removed some horrible Elvish, and done a bit of polishing, but no substantial changes were made.
> 
> Italics not used for simple emphasis denote mindspeak

*~*~*~*~*

**_Imladris, Third Age 2951_ **

As Glorfindel turned a corner and entered the hallway, he heard the sound of boisterous laughter emanating from the large suite of rooms the twins shared, and a smile graced his features.  _They’ve all returned, then, safe and sound,_ he thought with relief.

Elladan, Elrohir, and their foster brother Estel had recently returned from another expedition into the wilds, their mission simply to slaughter as many Orcs as possible.  The sons of Elrond would never forget the torture their mother had endured in the foul, filthy Orc dens.  Estel frequently joined them, taking revenge against the creatures that had slain his father when Estel was but more than a babe. 

Glorfindel, having sworn to serve and protect Elrond’s household since his return from the Halls of Mandos in the previous age, worried every time the three journeyed into the lands on one of their missions.  But Elladan and Elrohir were seasoned warriors, and Estel, though young, had spent his entire twenty Human years training and fighting alongside the two, and being trained by Glorfindel himself.  Estel, while mortal, could hold his own in combat, Glorfindel had seen to that.

A burst of ribald laughter greeted him as he pushed open the door.  Elrohir had apparently just told a joke and had caused the other two to erupt into gales of hilarity.  They finally caught sight of the blond warrior of Gondolin and the three gave a welcoming cheer.  Rising from their seats, as one they swept across the floor and crushed Glorfindel in a hug.

“When did you return from patrol?” Estel asked, smiling, as he drew back and returned to his seat, absently picking up and shuffling the deck of cards on the table.

“Just a while back," Glorfindel replied, pulling up a spare chair.  "The borders of Imladris are secure, for now.  The land carries rumors of Sauron’s rise, and I know not how long it will be safe to travel, but for now our fair valley is protected." 

“You took some of the new recruits this patrol, yes?” Elladan asked.

“Aye, and one in particular that I am keeping an eye on.  He is already showing great promise; he simply needs a few more years’ experience under his belt.  I spent a few extra minutes in the pit with him, refining his techniques.” 

Elladan snorted with laughter.  “Yes, I’m sure you did,” he snickered, giving his twin a lewd wink. 

The prowess of the golden-haired warrior was the subject of much speculation, and if truth be known, many a lusty fantasy.  Glorfindel neither confirmed nor denied any rumor, so the residents of Imladris were left wondering how much truth there was to that gossip.

“My reputation precedes me,” Glorfindel responded dryly, more than a touch of self-deprecating humor in his voice.  “If you must know, I allowed myself the luxury of a much-needed bath before joining you.  I did not wish to subject my comrades to the stench of a two-week patrol.”

“And for this, we are grateful,” Estel chuckled as he dealt the cards.

Glorfindel stretched his long legs with a blissful groan, noticing the ring Estel now wore on his finger.  “So Elrond finally told you, then?” he asked the young Man seated opposite.

“Yes,” Estel responded.

“And how do you feel about this revelation?  You are not angry at him for keeping your heritage from you?” 

“Nay, not angry," Estel answered thoughtfully. "Surprised, and uncertain as to my path, but not angry.  I understand why he did not reveal my ancestry sooner.  Elrond is far-sighted, and I trust his wisdom.  I know what is at stake, although I do not know if I have the strength to fulfill my destiny.  It is unsettling to think that everything I have known in my life is not as it seems.  I do not fault Elrond for this, though - "

With a sigh, he returned to the cards in his hand.  “Come now, we can discuss my fate at another time.  Let us enjoy the company of one another now, and forget the troubles and uncertainty of our world for a while.  My heart tells me we will have plenty of both ere long.”

*~*~*~*~*

_Mmmm, tôren, what I would have given to see that particular vision!_   Elladan thought to his twin, smirking and cutting his eyes discreetly in Glorfindel’s direction as Estel expertly dealt the cards on the table and chatted amiably with the blond warrior.

_Hmm?_   Elrohir, startled out of his own musings by his brother’s voice suddenly speaking in his head, lifted a graceful eyebrow in a questioning glance.

_Glorfindel in his bath?  Come now, ‘Ro, do not tell me you missed that?  You disappoint me,_ Elladan gently teased.   _There is no possible way that could have escaped your attention!_

_Nay, beloved, I heard it.  I was, err, distracted for a moment,_ Elrohir replied sheepishly.   _Our lovely Balrog slayer in his bath would indeed be a glorious sight to behold.  My thoughts, however, were otherwise occupied - that scene in the library, remember?  The one where he and Erestor…_

_Ah, your distraction is understandable, then,_ Elladan soothed.   _What say you then, tôren, to a taste of that delicious flesh for yourself?  I confess I would not mind, either.  Between the two of us, he would be sorely tempted.  After all, there have been none yet born able to resist the charm of an insistent Peredhel, no?_   Elladan responded silently, silver eyes raking over Glorfindel's figure.   _Especially one as beautiful and charming as you._

_Elladan_ _, you are incorrigible!  Often have I dreamed of riding him until he is breathless and begging me to finish him as he did with Erestor, yet I do not think this is possible,_ Elrohir responded, absently trailing his finger over the rim of his wine goblet.   _I fear he still thinks of us as mere children_ .

Elladan caught his twin’s eye.   _Then it is high time we changed that notion, do you not agree?  We have not been children for a long time now.  What say you, brother?  I too would like to feast on that pale flesh and see if it tastes as sweet as it looks._

_Aiya, El, you are going to be the death of me.  We will probably only succeed in being skewered by the point of his boot knife... but the thrill of the chase is always exhilarating._

Giving his twin a smoldering look, Elrohir continued, _But aye, brother, we will have him.  Tonight.  Between us, he does not stand a chance._

_~*~*~ to be continued… ~*~*~_

tôren = my brother (Sindarin)


	2. Chapter 2

*~*~*~*~*

**_Imladris, Third Age 2941 (ten years previous)_ **

One late night, Elrohir walked slowly through the gardens, returning to his rooms after spending an exhausting and pleasurable evening of debauchery.  Tired, slightly sore, and blissfully spent, he cut through the center gardens rather than taking the side path of his normal route. 

About to step onto the wide porch and turn to the suite of rooms he shared with his twin, he noticed that the lamps in the library were still ablaze.  The heavy drapes were slightly parted, allowing a sliver of light to pierce the otherwise dark night.  As it was quite late, he was certain no one was actually  _in_ the library at that late hour.  He thought to snuff the candles and douse the lanterns, and leave a note for the staff to be more careful next time.

The library of Imladris was legendary and contained countless scrolls, maps, and books of lore.  An entire section was dedicated to the battle plans and diagrams penned by the hand of Gil-galad, the High King himself.  In fact, one of Elrond’s prized possessions was a journal written by King Turgon, passed down hand to hand from Tuor to Eärendil, then in turn to Elrond and Elros.  The journal was one of the few items salvaged from the ruins of Gondolin, and Elrond cherished it, the token of that great hidden city that fell ere he was even born.  If a wayward spark were to set things aflame, the loss would be devastating.

Elrohir neared the entrance and had raised his hand to push the door open when he spied a shadow moving.  Listening carefully at the window that had been left slightly open to catch the warm evening breeze, he thought he heard the hum of a quiet voice.  Relieved that there was a living presence in the library and that his father's renowned literary collection was not about to be reduced to a smoldering ruin, he prepared to leave.  But as he turned, his breath caught in his throat at the vision revealed by the parted draperies. There was not one someone, but  _two_ .  Elrohir drew a hand over his eyes to ensure that his mind was not playing tricks on him.

"Sweet Elbereth," he gasped, pulling his hand back from where it lingered, inches from the door.

There before him, spread in all his glory, was his father’s captain of the guard - Glorfindel - being taken forcefully from behind by his father’s Chief Counselor Erestor. 

Stunned and immediately aroused, Elrohir was unable to tear his eyes away.  Sneaking back into the shadows – and thinking giddily to himself that given their current activities, the two in the room were not likely to notice him anyway – he watched, unable to resist the vision in front of him. 

Erestor wore only a flowing night robe that had dropped off his shoulders to hang down his back and over his arms, draping loosely behind his elbows to pool on the floor.   _Mandos, he is much more muscular than those somber black robes lead one to believe,_ Elrohir thought appreciatively, his eyes roaming over the surprisingly impressive form of his former tutor.  Erestor’s long, slender scholar’s hands gripped the pale hips before him, his head thrown back in abandon, his unbound raven hair swaying provocatively with each masterful thrust of his hips.  His eyes were closed in bliss, his mouth was slightly open, and he was panting heavily.

While the sight of the staid counselor completely lost in sensual ecstasy was evocative enough, it was the exhibition of the former lord of the House of the Golden Flower, Glorfindel of Gondolin, spread before Erestor and being mounted like a mare in heat that was nearly Elrohir’s undoing.  He watched, spellbound, as Erestor’s hardness, glistening wetly with oil, disappeared over and over between the perfect globes belonging to the fair-haired one spread so widely and wantonly before him.

Glorfindel's powerfully built form was bent forward at the waist over the divan, his long legs spread broadly. He was slicked with a sheen of sweat, which made his sculpted body appear to glow in the candlelight.  Pooled, forgotten, on the floor near his ankles were his leggings.  His arms were outstretched, palms flat on the low couch, trembling with the strain of supporting his torso in place against the onslaught of the driving force behind him.  His head hung toward his chest, shimmering golden hair carelessly pushed to the side over one broad shoulder.  A few damp tendrils clung to his sculpted cheekbone. 

From his view through the window, Elrohir could just catch a tantalizing glimpse of Glorfindel’s proud, erect cock pulsing and twitching, untouched.  Glorfindel's eyelids were partially closed in passion and fluttered over glazed blue eyes with each of Erestor’s thrusts. A glimpse of a pink tongue peeked between slightly parted lips as his mouth moved.  Elrohir realized with a bolt of pure lust that stabbed him low in the stomach that Glorfindel was groaning and muttering erotic words of encouragement to his lover.

Elrohir knew he should leave.  This intimate moment was obviously not intended for the eyes of another, and he knew that both parties involved would be scandalized if they were aware they were being watched, and quite intently, at that.  Yet Elrohir stood and watched anyway. 

Ever since he was a boy, he had idolized Glorfindel.  As Elrohir grew, his youthful idolization gave way to a growing and lasting respect for the golden-haired captain.  Now that his majority was long past, he could finally put a name to those feelings.

Love, and lust.  Yes, his heart belonged to Elladan; they both believed that somehow the Valar had created their soul as one and bound it separately in two bodies.  They were lovers; partners, their spirits bound together for all eternity.  They sometimes took others to their beds, but each knew they were incomplete without the other.  Yet…

Elrohir would have given anything to be Erestor at that moment.

As he stood in the shadows, watching hungrily, Elrohir unlaced his leggings and slipped his hand down to his erect shaft.  He had spent his lust well several times this night, and as impossible as he would have thought it to be just a few short moments ago, he knew this evening was far from over.

The panting and grunting that emanated from the open window intensified in both pace and volume as Erestor increased his cadence.  Glorfindel gasped as Erestor’s hard flesh pounded into him, striking that hidden spot inside his tight channel that sent bursts of stars through his vision. 

“ _Harder_ , Restor, harder…   _yes_ , that’s it…  please, end it, I cannot -  _ahhhh_ \- take much more - "

Panting, Erestor growled and chuckled, a low throaty sound, his words punctuated by each thrust into the velvety tightness of the beautiful, golden body beneath him.

“Do you -  _uhhh_ \- like that, Fin?  Do you like what I -  _nggg_ \- do to you?  Do you like to -  _ahhhhhh_ \- give up control?  Do you like it -  _gods_ \- when you are rendered -  _mmmm_ \- helpless by another -  _uhhh_ \- and begging for your release?  Beg me, Fin, beg me…”

“ _Aaaahhhh_ , yes,  _yes_ , do it, finish it, please, Restor,  _uhhhh_ , I beg you,” Glorfindel pleaded. 

Unbelievably, Erestor's hips pistoned forward and back even faster, driving into the tight sheath that engulfed him.  One hand remained on Glorfindel’s hip, holding him in place against the onslaught.  The other reached below and gripped Glorfindel's throbbing, weeping length and began stroking firmly in opposition to each push of his hips. 

Thrust.  Stroke.  Thrust.  Stroke. 

The slender hand on Glorfindel's shaft stroked more quickly, and suddenly as a single unit, the two gave a great shudder, shouting out their climaxes, Glorfindel’s essence pulsing white and thick from his cock and coating Erestor’s hand.  Glorfindel collapsed with a great shudder, finally, across the arm of the divan and Erestor slumped, exhausted, across his lover’s broad back, both of them gasping for breath.

Quickly, before the two fully returned to their senses and noticed the labored breathing outside the window, Elrohir turned from the scene before him and ran silently back through the garden to the shared suite of rooms.  He threw open the door to the common room, grabbed his unsuspecting and amused brother by the hand, and literally dragged him into his bedchamber.  He paused only long enough to shed his tunic, lock the bedroom door, and seize a vial of oil from a table before throwing a startled but thoroughly aroused Elladan across the bed.

“Ro?  What is it?”

“Shut up, El, and turn over.”  He said nothing more as he slaked his re-awakened lust on his twin.

The night wore on toward Anor’s rising before Elladan ever did get an explanation.

_*~*~* to be continued… *~*~*_

tôren = my brother (Sindarin)


	3. Chapter 3

*~*~*~*~*

**_Imladris, Third Age 2951_** **** __  
  
A fragrant breeze wafted gently through the open window, faintly scented with the aroma of flowers, woods, and water that lingered from the heat of the day’s sun. The wine flowed as freely as their tongues while the quartet relaxed and enjoyed the company of one another. They were happy to have returned to the safety of their home after traveling through the growing perils of the land.  
  
The night wore on and the four played with easy familiarity. Three brothers, two bound by blood and one by love and duty, shared the tales of their most recent expedition through the wilds of Middle-earth. Glorfindel told stories of his patrol of the borders of Imladris, frequently bringing his friends to tears of laughter with his humorous retellings of the antics of his border guards. He had an effortless way of relating to others, with quick-witted, self-deprecating humor. Glorfindel's disposition was one of easy  
friendliness and vivacity, as easily able to charm a visiting dignitary during a heated political discussion as to tickle and tousle the hair of a wee Elven child.  
  
Indeed, the blond warrior was easy on the eyes, as well. Tonight, free of its usual braids, his golden hair hung in a shimmering cascade over his broad shoulders and halfway down his back. The thick mass was held away from his face by a delicate mithril clip, revealing gracefully pointed ears.  Cerulean eyes sparkled like the great sky above on a summer’s day and were set in a proud and noble face. High cheekbones flanked a strong nose above full, luscious pink lips. The captain's long body was lean and fit, battle-hardened muscle flowing smoothing under softly shimmering skin the color of aged ivory.

Everywhere he went, worshipful eyes followed. Half the population of Imladris would gladly share his bed. The other half already had, if one believed the rumors, although Glorfindel was not one to kiss and tell. He steadfastly refused to either validate or deny any such speculation. It was part of what made him so endearing.

Elrohir found himself hard and aching at the thought of Glorfindel’s resplendent body rising wet from his bath, drops of water glistening like diamonds across a creamy expanse of flesh. His memory returned again and again to the scene he had unwittingly witnessed in the library those years ago. The golden-haired warrior had captivated him with his wanton sensuality. Since that moment, he had harbored a longing in his heart and his groin to have Glorfindel writhing beneath him in ecstasy, begging and whimpering in his need.

*~*~*~*~*

Glorfindel started, feeling the slight pressure of a warm, solid leg pressed intimately against his. He lifted his eyes from the cards he held in his hand to meet Elladan's laughing gray eyes. Glorfindel questioningly raised a graceful eyebrow, then moved his leg away and returned to studying his cards.

Slowly, gently, a wayward foot slipped forward to rub subtly against his calf, before sliding sinuously around his ankle and tugging the captive foot closer.  
  
Blue eyes rose again to meet gray, which were sparkling with humor and a touch of something else. Shocked at this blatant display, Glorfindel’s thoughts whirled uncertainly.

What game is he playing? I must misunderstand, he surely cannot mean…  Glorfindel had stood by Elrond, beaming with love and pride as his friend held his tiny twin sons for the first time. He had assisted Elrond and Celebrían in raising them. He taught them to swim and whistle like a bird; chastised them when they teased their sister and made her cry. Taught them the art of sword fighting and archery; held one sobbing twin in his arms while Erestor held the other, all four overcome with grief and horror after Celebrían was brought bleeding and abused back to Imladris. He had comforted them in their sorrow when their beloved mother finally made the journey to Valinor.

The buzz of conversation became a dull hum to his ears as he contemplated the warm foot twined about his ankle. Again, he met the gray stare of his tormenter. His eyes widened in surprise to see the barest tip of a tongue slither seductively between parted lips and caress the bow of a pink and sensuous upper lip.

By the Valar, that was no mistake.

*~*~*~*~*

_Elladan, what are you doing?_ Elrohir thought in alarm. He had witnessed the exchange of looks between his brother and Glorfindel. Always present in each other’s minds, he could feel that Elladan was up to something. That ‘something’ would almost certainly land them both in some sort of trouble; it usually did.  
  
 _Did you not want him, tôren? Perhaps I was mistaken…_ Elladan purred silently. _I would be more than happy to keep him to myself.  He smells simply divine. The way his hair shines in the candlelight is most appealing._  
  
 _Sweet Elbereth, do you have to be so_ blatant _about it? Even Estel will know what you are up to!_ Elrohir pleaded, hoping in desperation that the blush he felt slowly creeping across his cheeks would be attributed to the heady wine they were drinking. _Brazen and wicked, that is what you are._ _  
_  
Elladan’s full lips twisted into a mischievous grin as he arched a slim eyebrow questioningly at his brother. _’Ro, tell me to stop and I will. But, my love, you have longed for him for a decade. The opportunity presents itself. With but a small amount of machination on our part, you will have him.  I can feel his uncertainty, but it is mixed with no small amount of curiosity.  He would put up only a token resistance, I sense. His emotions are warring between desire and the sense of propriety as he reconciles the fact that we are no longer children._ _  
_  
Elladan pressed a bit harder. He could feel his twin’s reluctance was slowly being overcome by the desires of his body.  
  
 _Very well.  I will let this opportunity pass, but know this, tôren.  We will not have another chance such as this. The Dark Lord’s power is growing, and you and I will be called away to fight his rising. Glorfindel’s place is here, with Adar and Arwen. Our paths may not cross again for a long time. Would you ride to meet Sauron’s evil never having tasted that sweet flesh? Never having had his body quivering in desire under yours? If you are certain…_ Elladan, ever the instigator, let the thought trail away, certain that his twin would take the bait.  
  
Elrohir took a deep breath and risked a furtive glance at Glorfindel.  Engrossed in the telling of another anecdote about his patrol, Glorfindel did not see the twins' eyes become somewhat glazed as they conversed silently. 

_I do want him, El; you know I do. It is taking every fiber of restraint I possess not to simply throw him across the table and have him right here in front of you and Estel. No, lusty one, you misunderstand me. My fear is not his rejection, it is losing his respect._

_He would not refuse you, 'Ro. None could,_ Elladan reassured his uncharacteristically insecure brother. 

While Elrohir was the more reserved and introspective of the two, he also possessed a quiet self-assurance that was quite unlike Elladan’s more assertive, and sometimes impetuous, manner.  This uncertainty now was charming, and Elladan’s heart swelled with love.

_You are beautiful and desirable, Elrohir. He would be a fool to reject you, and Glorfindel is no fool,_ Elladan reassured his twin silently, and let a gentle flow of love wash through their connection.  _What say you to a wager, then? We have only been teasing thus far... but if you win this game tonight, I will assist you in seducing your golden warrior. If I win, I will have you at my mercy for the night._

Just as Elladan feared his brother would tell him to stop, Elrohir took a breath to center his thoughts, and responded.

_Aye.  He is exquisite, and so passionate. I am willing._

  
*~*~*~*~*

  
The stacks of coins before Elrohir became larger, and the pile before Estel smaller. Elladan and Glorfindel appeared to be fairly evenly tied. They played only a friendly game; the stakes were not high, but the four enjoyed the game. It was a rarity that they were in the same place at the same time.  
  
Estel threw the last hand down on the table and grumbled in disgust. “By the fires of Morgoth, I am out.” Standing, he swayed unsteadily on his feet and would have tumbled to the floor had not Glorfindel’s quick reflexes saved him. “I am fine, Glorfindel,” he muttered, shaking off the hand that encircled his shoulders.  
  
“Hush, young one, let me walk you to your quarters. You forget you do not have the tolerance we do for this heady Elven wine. Sometimes I think you even believe yourself to be one of our kind,” Glorfindel chuckled gently. The low rumbling sound sent bolts of pure fire to the loins of the Peredhil. “You have also had much to think about this past day. Let me get you settled in your chamber. Besides,” he added dryly, “I seem to be already standing, anyway.”  
  
Turning back to the raven-haired twins still seated comfortably at the table, long legs splayed in front of them, he said, “And, as for you two, I will return to win my money back!”

He grinned and swept the small stack of coins at Estel’s seat into the palm of one large hand. Leading a slightly weaving Estel, he turned to close the door behind and met two identical pairs of gray eyes, their heated gaze boring into his own.

I will also be back to see what those two are up to, he thought. Three can play at this game.

  
_~*~*~ to be continued… ~*~*~_

tôren = my brother (Sindarin)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *~*~*~*~*
> 
> If you want to kiss the sky you better learn how to kneel.  
> On your knees, boy…  
> U2

*~*~*~*~*

Glorfindel deposited Estel in his chamber, assisting the woozy young man in removing his boots and tunic before settling him among the blankets and fluffy pillows on his bed. He chuckled softly as Estel snuggled into the comfort of his bed and immediately fell into an alcohol-induced slumber. Glorfindel fondly brushed a lock of dark hair off Estel’s forehead, ruminating briefly how young, yet noble, he looked. This one is destined for great things, he thought, knowing his predictions were uncanny in their accuracy. Something about having died did that to someone, he surmised.

The hallways were dimly lit that time of night, most of the inhabitants of Imladris having already gone to bed. Glorfindel trod lightly, his footsteps soft and unhurried, making only the barest whisper on the tiled floor. He took his time as he pondered the happenings in the twins’ rooms.

At the first brush of a foot against his, Glorfindel had thought it was an inadvertent misplacement of a limb, the simple matter of legs far too long under a table much too small. The second, though, there was no mistaking it. For Elladan’s sake, Glorfindel assumed a façade of ignorance, giving himself time to assess the situation.

Glorfindel, being an honorable Elf, would never breach another’s thoughts without permission. However, being ancient among the Eldar, he could sense the moods and general feelings of others without actually entering their minds. What he gleaned from reading the emotions of the Peredhil took him by surprise. His initial thought was of shock, which eventually gave way to amazement and intrigue.

The twins were stunning creatures. Standing only a fraction less in stature than Glorfindel himself, they were slim, clean-limbed and long of arm and leg. The brethren possessed the slightly darker-hued skin tone of their father's Edain ancestry. The dark locks and piercing gray eyes of their father were enhanced by Celebrían’s bequest of grace and beauty, adding to their exotic looks. The twins were as different as Anor and Ithil in temperament, yet complemented each other perfectly. The Noldor blood of their forbearers, combined with that of Melian, most beautiful of Maiar, ensured that the Half-elven twins of Imladris were fair of face beyond measure of Men and Elves.

Glorfindel reached the door to the twins’ suite and paused for another moment before entering.

Elladan was intent on seduction. And where Elladan was involved, so was Elrohir, as well. Elladan was always the instigator; he had been since the twins were small, somehow convincing his younger brother to go along with his plans. Glorfindel wondered how far the brethren would carry this game of seduction, and decided then to play along with them and see just how far they would go.

*~*~*~*~*

He knocked lightly on the door to let the twins know he had returned. Scurrying and rustling ensued, before a voice finally answered. “Glorfindel? Enter.”

To outward appearances, nothing had changed. The gaming table was laid as it had been when he left; his cards lay untouched before his seat. The candlelight still illuminated the chamber with a soft glow. Yet, something was different. The twins looked just a bit rumpled, their skin flushed. Elladan had a look of satisfied amusement on his flushed face, while Elrohir appeared to be shaky and having difficulty catching his breath. Glorfindel detected a slightly musky undercurrent mingling with the fresh outdoor scent in the air. Those two just cannot keep their hands off each other, he thought wryly as he recognized the smell of sex.

With a determined look of nonchalance on his face, Glorfindel returned to the seat he had vacated earlier. Now that they have had their little bit of fun, let us see in what manner they will continue this farce, he thought, gathering his cards. Beginning to shuffle, he met Elrohir's eye across the table and gave him a knowing wink. He was most amused to see Elrohir blush.

*~*~*~*~*

After the first few moments of boozy slumber, Estel woke with a headache pulsing queasily behind his temples. His heart raced, and he felt restless, tangled and stifled by the bed coverings. It was a common happening when he imbibed the rich Elven wine that was an Imladris favorite; after the initial intoxication, he found himself plagued with insomnia. With a wry smile, he recalled Glorfindel’s words. It was true; he had lived among the Elves for his entire life and did sometimes forget he was not of their kind. It was not his habit to overindulge in this manner, but Glorfindel was correct. It had been an emotional day, and the wine had gone straight to his head. It was not every day that one learned he was a descendant of the line of Elros and rightful heir to the throne of Gondor.

He rose unsteadily from his bed and lit a taper on the table. Clutching the candle precariously in one hand, he staggered to his private bathing chamber to relieve himself. He rummaged through a drawer, searching for Elrond’s special 'morning after' mix and found just enough of the liquid in the elusive bottle for one last dose.

Returning to his bedchamber, he noted with amusement that his tunic was strewn on the chair beside the bed and his boots dropped haphazardly next to it. Glorfindel was widely lauded for many things; neatness was not one of them.

Stripping off his leggings, he shrugged on a thin night robe over his nakedness and poured himself a goblet of water. Goblet in one hand, candle in the other, he stepped outside to the wide porch and into the warm night air to wait for Elrond’s hangover cure to take effect. How he envied the Elves and their ability to imbibe without lasting effects!

The family wing of the Last Homely House was arranged in a rough L-shape. Immediate family occupied the quarters on the first level. The twins, who had never been separated since birth, shared the largest suite, one that had been specially designed by joining two smaller chambers around a central common area and private bathing room. The upper echelon in Elrond’s employ, primarily Glorfindel, Erestor, and Lindir, along with a few of the higher-ranking members of Elrond’s counsel, were housed on the second floor. Elrond’s own quarters occupied most of the third level and had an almost panoramic view of the breathtaking vistas and waterfalls of the beautiful valley and the Misty Mountains.

Estel seated himself in one of the comfortable chairs placed strategically around the porch and stretched his long legs out in front of him. He placed the goblet on the ground near his chair and blew out the candle, allowing the darkness to soothe the dull thumping in his head. He leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes, waiting for the potion to take effect and calm the jittery feeling that inevitably came with overindulgence. The night sounds – crickets chirping idyllically, owls mournfully hooting, and the rustle of nocturnal creatures foraging among the shrubberies – lulled him again into light slumber.

He woke with a start a while later and realized he was still outside. Ithil had traced a path across the sky and he reckoned he had been dozing for over an hour, but no more than two. He stretched and groaned, rubbing the stiffness from his neck. It was as he looked about him in the moonlight to gather his belongings that he noticed light coming from the twins’ room, adjacent and around the corner to his own. What he saw took his breath away, any thought of his lingering headache driven out of his mind.

*~*~*~*~*

More wine, more cards, more forward brushes of feet. A firm calf pressed against his, fingers lingered against a hand, a friendly touch to an arm held just a tiny bit longer than propriety dictated. Sly winks and lascivious licking of lips. A gaze held, gray eyes to blue, a moment longer than necessary.

The time for tact and diplomacy had long past. Those traits were better suited for Elrond’s counselor, anyway; Glorfindel’s way was more direct. What had begun as a seemingly, if not innocent, but simple game of flirtation had raged into a full-blown assault of seduction, and it ended now. Glorfindel was not a diplomat, he was a man of action, and he wanted answers.

He laid his cards face down and took a fortifying sip of his wine. “Elladan, what - ” Now that he had laid his cards on the table, so to speak, he found himself at a loss, and settled for simplicity. “Why?”

To Glorfindel’s surprise, it was Elrohir who groaned and slumped forward in his seat, burying his beautiful face in his hands. “I told you this would happen, El."

Elladan rose from his seat and rounded the table, kneeling on the floor next to his brother, and enfolded him in his arms. He rested his cheek against Elrohir's chest and softly stroked his hair. “Hush, beloved. This is my fault, not yours.”

Elrohir raised his head and wrapped his arms around his brother. “Nay, tôren, you are not to blame, I could have refused.” He bestowed a soft kiss on Elladan's forehead while Glorfindel looked on uncertainly. “I cannot go on with this charade. It was reprehensible and self-indulgent, and I will apologize.”

Elrohir gently extricated himself from the circle of his brother’s arms and rose to his feet, coming before Glorfindel and dropping to his knees. Glorfindel turned in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting with his head tilted questioningly to the side. This turn of events had him puzzled.

“I have wronged you, my lord,” Elrohir said formally, bowing his head. His face flushed crimson in embarrassment.

Glorfindel reached out with one large hand and gently tipped Elrohir’s chin up. “How did you wrong me, beautiful one? A few moments ago, your brother was engaged in a harmless game of flirtation. I am not so naïve as to be caught unawares of his ruse.” He paused, his hand dropping to Elrohir’s shoulder and rubbing gently. He caressed the ebony locks flowing over the strong shoulder before gently tucking a loose strand behind Elrohir’s ear.

Elladan dropped to his knees beside his brother. He wrapped one arm lovingly about his twin's waist and placed the other hand on Glorfindel’s knee before meeting the captain's piercing blue eyes. “I am the one at fault, Glorfindel. I cannot allow my brother to be held responsible for this charade.”

“Nay, it was I," Elrohir interrupted. "I saw you in the library, Glorfindel. Years ago. You and Erestor. You were - _involved_.”

Glorfindel’s eyes opened wide in surprise. His friendship with the raven-haired Chief Counselor had been deep and abiding for years beyond count, and the line between friend and lover was occasionally blurred. They were not exclusive, nor were they in love, but occasionally took comfort with each other. Most of their infrequent encounters took place in the privacy of their respective quarters. The tryst in the library, though, was one he remembered vividly and with fond memories. Erestor had surprised and delighted him with his ferocity that night. In truth, Glorfindel had surprised himself by yielding so enthusiastically.

Elrohir rushed on before he lost his nerve. “It was late, and I was returning to my room when I saw the library still brightly lit. I feared the servants had left the candles alight, and when I reached the door I saw the two of you through a crack in the draperies. I should not have watched, yet I stayed.” The blush suffusing his face darkened, and he hung his head in shame at his next words. “I wanted you then; I have wanted you since. I did not know how to approach you, for fear you would ridicule my desire as the infatuation of a child for his elder.”

Elladan softly stroked his brother’s back. “He came to me that night, and I knew then the depth of his passion for you. Tonight I saw an opportunity to give him what he has longed for. I suggested a wager: if he were to best us tonight, I would assist him in seducing you. If I were to win, he would be my slave for the night. It was not his fault, Glorfindel. Forgive me.”

“So, you sought to entrap me in a web of lies and deceit? Did you think me so ancient and decrepit that I would be unable to see through your ploy?" Glorfindel asked, his voice coming sharper than he intended. "Did you take me for a fool?”

Identical gray eyes lifted in horror, widening in fear and disbelief when they met the piercing sapphire gaze that bored into theirs. Glorfindel cupped a strong hand to the cheeks of the two who knelt before him, brushing the rough pad of each thumb over proud cheekbones.

Softening his tone, he looked from one exquisite face to the other, faces he held dear to his heart. “Did you think me so heartless as to ridicule your desires?” He slowly rose to his feet, bringing the two kneeling before him to stand. His hands roamed slowly across their backs with the barest touch, lifting inky silken strands of hair and allowing them to side sensuously through his fingers. An absolute delight, these two, he mused. Do they truly think me so immune to their charms?

“Oh my beautiful fools, did either of you think to simply ask?”

~*~*~ to be continued… ~*~*~

tôren = my brother (Sindarin)


	5. Chapter 5

*~*~*~*~*

Breath rasped in his chest as he watched, unseen, from his chair on the porch. One hand dropped to the gap in his robe and rubbed slowly over his bare chest, feeling the hairs whisper-soft under his fingers. The hand traced the thin line of it down beyond his navel, becoming more coarse and wiry before spreading in an unruly mass between his legs. He allowed his fingers to comb through the thick curls before grasping the proud, hard length below in his fist. He groaned softly, his wordless sounds absorbed by the night, as he watched the scene in his brothers’ rooms. His breath became labored as he stroked the rigid manhood, which wept and throbbed within his hand.

"So beautiful," he breathed.

*~*~*~*~*

“Oh my beautiful fools, did either of you think to simply ask?”

The twins gaped in astonishment at Glorfindel's words.  Upon their confession of the wager and their ruse, the best they had hoped for was forgiveness.  At the worst... it was better not to even think about. Although Elladan and Elrohir were long past their majority, they could still barely suppress shudders of dread at the ominous raising of their father's eyebrow, should he learn of their offense.  Elrond’s rare displays of temper, while usually tightly controlled, were legendary.  And Glorfindel himself was not one to trifle with. 

“Do close your mouths, young ones.  You resemble two fish fresh-caught from the Bruinen, gawking at me thus.”  Glorfindel’s blue eyes crinkled slightly at the corners as he smiled.

Elladan sighed in relief and Elrohir sagged visibly against his twin, leaning heavily into the warmth of his brother.  True to form, Elladan was the first to speak, as Elrohir twined an arm about his waist.  “You are not angry, then?  We are truly sorry, Glorfindel.  We were wrong to attempt this deception.  For all our years, we sometimes act like younglings just entering puberty.” 

Glorfindel again seated himself and pulled the two down to perch, one upon each knee, as he had done when they were small.  The chair groaned precariously under their combined weight. They were children no longer, far from it, and the heavy weight resting upon each leg sent a thrill through his body.  “Nay, I am not angry,” he said earnestly.  “In truth, I have long admired the adults you have grown to be.  You have made us all proud.  Your mother would be most pleased if she were to see the men you have become.”

Elrohir sat in silence as he observed the exchange between Elladan and the captain.  His emotions were in turmoil from the turn of events.  “What now, then?” his voice faltered as he spoke.  “Do we return, then, to as we were before?  We cannot un-say what is said, nor un-do what is done.  Where does that leave us?”  He closed his eyes; dark lashes brushing his cheekbones as he pondered their actions of earlier in the evening.  The wager had seemed so simple, so innocent.  So childish.

Warm breath caressed Elrohir's neck as soft lips pressed to the pulse beating steadily at his throat.  A shiver coursed through his body and his eyelids snapped open, startled at the unexpected touch of lips against his skin.  A mass of molten gold filled his vision, and he sighed softly as he arched his neck to invite further contact, his eyes closing again in bliss.  A soft, moist tongue tasted him delicately, fluttery butterfly wings upon the pulse point, only a whisper more than air.  Gods, he is intoxicating, he thought, dazed, absorbed in the sensation of the tongue teasing his neck. 

Elrohir melted into Glorfindel's warm embrace.  He had wanted this for so long, he was almost afraid to believe his long-unfulfilled desire could come to fruition.  At last he forced open his eyes and met Elladan's amused gaze boring into his and twinkling with mirth. 

“Does that answer your question, tôren?”  Elladan's voice was thick with laughter.

Glorfindel raised his head from where it nestled Elrohir's neck.  His eyes gleaming wickedly as he roughly shoved the twins off his lap and stood.  The chair groaned threateningly as it was released from the weight of three fully-grown Elves.  “You two are not getting any less heavy, you know.  Shall we move to someplace more suitable?”

The brethren struggled to their feet, grasping Glorfindel's hands extended to them in assistance.  “I shall surely have a bruise now,” Elrohir grumbled good-naturedly, wincing as he rubbed his sore bottom.

“I shall have to remedy that, lovely one,” Elladan purred, reaching his free hand to caress his brother’s rear.  “Shall I rub the pain away for you?” 

Elrohir playfully swatted his brother’s hand away before turning to face Glorfindel, his eyes turning serious.  "Are you certain this is what you want?”

A small piece of Elrohir’s mind was still filled with apprehension.  He worried that either Glorfindel played with them much as a cat worries a mouse before moving in for the kill, or that he had somehow fallen into a dream from which he would wake up humiliated and unable to face the captain on the morrow.

Blue eyes, darkened to the color of the depths of the sea, met his as Glorfindel spoke earnestly.  “Elrohir, I have heard the rumors about me, but contrary to common belief, I do not take lovers lightly.  I choose carefully, sharing pleasure only with those I care about.”  He leaned forward and claimed Elrohir’s full lips in a soft kiss, allowing his tongue to just tease those soft petals in a promise of things to come.

“I care deeply about you and your brother.  I have watched you mature from mischievous, troublesome children into the rightful heir of Imladris,” he glanced at Elladan, and then returned his gaze to meet Elrohir’s, “and the future captain of her defenses.  I looked upon you first as swaddling infants, then as students, and finally as adults and equals.”

He paused a moment, as if in consideration and licked his lips before continuing.  “I have long admired you, the warriors and leaders you have become.  Aye, I am sure.  I would be pleased to share this night with you.”  He amended, “ _Both_ of you.”  Whatever happened this night would involve the three of them.  There had been enough subterfuge, no matter how harmless, and Glorfindel wanted to assure them he was not proceeding under false pretenses.

Elladan wasted no more time.  He had watched with growing interest as Glorfindel nuzzled Elrohir's neck and was anxious to latch onto the other side of that slender column and drive his brother wild with lust.  They occasionally took others to their beds, but it was Elrohir alone who could drive his passion spiraling to heights he could never reach with another.

Reaching beside him blindly, he drew Elrohir into his arms and took a step forward to press his brother’s back against the warmth of Glorfindel’s chest.  He covered Elrohir's lips with his own and gave him a long, deep kiss before raising his head and meeting Glorfindel’s eyes.  “Bed.  Now,” he commanded.  “I would properly ravage my brother, if you please.”

Their cards lay strewn about the table, the game long forgotten.  Elladan propelled them through the sitting room and into his adjoining bedchamber.  Glorfindel trailed closely behind with a bemused expression on his handsome face.

Mesmerized, he stood at the side of the bed watching as the two dark-haired Elves kissed passionately.  Aiya, they have no idea how striking they are together, he thought idly.  His leggings felt uncomfortably tight as he watched Elrohir slip one hand under his brother’s tunic to rub his chest.  The younger twin moaned softly as Elladan nipped gently at the point of his ear.

Elladan tore his lips from his brother’s ear and raised his head to look at Glorfindel with passion-darkened eyes as he queried with a lopsided grin, “Do you plan to simply stand there, or would you like to assist me?”

Glorfindel crossed one arm over his chest and tapped the finger of the other hand against his temple, making a show of feigned deep thought.  Humor filled his voice as he responded.  “Shall I let you two off the hook so easily?  There seems to be the matter of a certain deception that lies between us.  My honor has been besmirched, and I shall claim recompense.”

His eyes crinkled merrily.  “If I am not mistaken, Elrohir, I believe you owe your brother.”  Elrohir looked up in momentary confusion.  “One turn deserves another," Glorfindel said merrily.  "Did he not pleasure you once already this night?  I think it only fair you repay him in kind.  That,” he proclaimed, “will be your punishment.”  He nodded, satisfied.

Identical faces grinned back at him.  “Oh, aye, I agree, my lord; I am an honorable Elf and always repay my debts,” Elrohir agreed, blushing most becomingly.  He reached again for his brother and drew Elladan’s tunic over his head before tossing it carelessly on the floor.

Elladan laughed as he drew his brother to him.  “He was in  _such_ a state, Glorfindel, I could not allow his discomfort to continue, for fear of his sanity.”  He removed Elrohir’s shirt as well, then pulled his twin back down to the bed.

Glorfindel quickly stripped off his own tunic, which also joined the growing pile of clothing.  The mithril clasp that held his glorious mane from his face was set carefully on the bedside table before he lay down beside the twins.  Glorfindel drew his hands over their smooth bodies as he watched them embrace.

Elrohir ran his tongue up his brother's chest before tracing a path from one rosy nipple to the other.  Slowly, teasingly, never quite touching, he swirled in lazy circles around each straining bud. He caught one pebbled peak between his teeth, worrying it softly.  Elladan gasped in pleasure-pain and wrapped his legs around Elrohir’s, rocking his pelvis against his brother’s hip.

“We seem to have a bit of a problem, my love,” Elrohir whispered, between flicks of a tongue to his brother’s navel, while his fingers continued to tease the nipples his mouth had so recently abandoned. 

“Ah, tôren, nay, I will surely perish if you stop now,” Elladan’s voice wavered as he arched his back.

“You are wearing too many clothes.”

“That is easily remedied, my sweet,” Elladan’s fingers left his brother’s smooth chest and reached to untie his lacings, where they were stopped by a firm grasp. 

“Allow me,” Glorfindel bowed his head and drew Elladan’s full lower lip in between his teeth, suckling softly for a moment.  “Aiya, you taste as sweet as your brother,” he sighed softly, before he reluctantly withdrew and moved to the foot of the bed to first draw off Elladan’s low boots, then his leggings. 

The older twin raised his hips obligingly, shivering in pleasure as the night air caressed his swollen arousal.  Elrohir stood briefly and shucked off his own leggings. 

Glorfindel allowed his eyes to rake appraisingly over the forms, one lying provocatively, the other standing proudly nearby, their members already hard and leaking with arousal.  They were nearly mirror images; the darkly inked marks just below each navel, Elladan’s on the right of his abdomen and Elrohir’s on his left.  It was unusual for Elves to mark themselves permanently in the manner of Men.  Glorfindel admired the designs, very different yet obviously created by the same artisan.  He would ask them someday what the designs symbolized.

Elrohir knelt at the foot of the bed.  He lifted one of his brother’s feet and trailed his fingers over the arch and around the ankle before slipping one of the digits into his mouth and suckling sensuously.  Elladan let out a strangled noise somewhere between a giggle and a moan.  Elrohir let the toe slip out of his mouth and began to kiss and lick a slow, torturous path up his twin's leg.  He slinked with feline grace up Elladan's body and finally knelt between his parted thighs.

Elladan let his knees fall further apart and shivered in anticipation as Elrohir tasted the sensitive skin of his groin.  His brother was unparalleled in giving pleasure with his mouth.  He cried out in surprise as his hard length was suddenly swallowed.  “Ah, ‘Ro, you undo me,” he whimpered as Elrohir’s mouth sucked hard.

Elrohir pulled back to the rounded crown and let his tongue circle the ridge.  He flicked his tongue and tasted the drop of clear fluid that leaked from the tip and then leaned close to the blond warrior who watched with rapt attention.  “Will you taste how pleasing my brother is, Glorfindel?  Can you not see what it is about him that enthralls me so?  How sweetly he surrenders to my touch?”  He extended his tongue to the golden one, offering him a taste. 

Glorfindel let his own tongue slip forward through parted lips to take the proffered sweetness.  “Aye, he is indeed appetizing. It is quite a pleasing combination of his seed mingled with the taste of your own sweet mouth,” he agreed as he drew back, savoring the flavor.

Elladan panted feverishly at the sight of his brother offering Glorfindel his mouth.  He ground his neglected arousal against Elrohir’s leg, desperate for the friction he needed to bring him to his release.  “Elrohir,  _please_ ,” he whined, beyond caring that he was begging.

_Glorfindel?_   The captain felt Elrohir’s cautious brush of thoughts against his mind and allowed him entry.   _Do you wish to participate?_

_Nay, Elrohir, for now I am content to watch,_ Glorfindel answered, propping his head up on one hand.  The other hand rubbed slow circles over the prominent bulge in his leggings.

_As you wish,_ Elrohir responded before lowering his head and running his tongue up the thick, pulsing vein on the underside of Elladan’s shaft.  Eyes closed, he swirled his tongue around the velvety soft head and gave it a gentle lick before taking the whole length back in deeply.  He relaxed his throat and pumped his head up and down over his brother’s aching member, swallowing and allowing the flat of his tongue to caress the shaft as he moved.

Elladan groaned and began thrusting slowly into his twin’s mouth, running his hands through his brother’s dark hair.  Elrohir opened his eyes and, with his gaze locked on Elladan's eyes turned pewter with need, began a rapid sucking motion. 

Elrohir understood his brother’s silent request and slowed the movement of his head, allowing Elladan to plunder his mouth with his thrusting, keeping his cheeks hollowed and his lips tightly closed around the thick shaft.  Elladan plunged harder and faster into Elrohir's mouth, and at last, with a low growl spilled himself deep in his brother’s throat, struggling to keep their eyes locked together.

“That was incredible, beloved,” he managed to croak as the after tremors of his orgasm shuddered through his body. 

“Aye, it was,” Glorfindel concurred, eyes midnight with desire as he leaned over Elladan’s trembling form to capture Elrohir’s swollen lips in a heated kiss.  Tongues met in a wild duel as they struggled for dominance.  The taste of Elladan’s seed, slightly bitter, mingled with the wine they had drunk filled Glorfindel's mouth as he ravaged Elrohir’s lips. 

_~*~*~* to be continued…~*~*~_

tôren = my brother (Sindarin)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And I need someone to love me  
> I know you can  
> Believe me when I tell you   
> you can love me like a man  
>  \- Bonnie Raitt

*~*~*~*~*

He sat in shadows, the dark night illuminated only by Ithil’s faint light.  He had long suspected his foster brothers were lovers; this confirmation did not really come as a surprise.  How many times had he returned from gathering wood during one of their travels to see the twins holding hands or wrapped together in an embrace?  Rounded a corner of the Last Homely House and observed a stolen kiss, a lingering look?  More often than not, across their shared campfire in the wilds, the twins woke entwined in a single bedroll, the second lying empty and forgotten nearby.

It was the way of the Elves to love as they would, be they male or female.  To love one another was the greatest gift bestowed upon the Firstborn by The One, and there was no shame in any manner of its expression.  The love between twins was revered above all; in time out of creation there was no love so rare, or so beautiful, as the bond shared by a single soul embodied by two.  While he was of the Edain, he had been raised among the fair folk, as one of their kind, and saw no dishonor in any manner of loving.

He watched them, enthralled and aroused by their splendor as they made love with the noble, fair-haired captain.  The sight brought a strange longing to his mortal heart.  He wished he dared approach them, to simply knock on the door and confess his desire.  To join with them.  To share in a devotion so beautiful, so perfect…  he longed for a love such as theirs, an enduring passion that transcended time.

He dared not, and so he watched.

As the figures in the room took their pleasures within each other’s bodies, he lurked in the shadows.  Silently, listening to the moans and the sounds of lovemaking drifting through the open window.  He slowly stroked his manhood, matching his pace with that of the figures on the bed as they writhed and bucked against each other.  When they reached their climaxes with roars of ecstasy, he spilled his seed hot upon his hand, stifling his own guttural cry with the heel of the other hand pressed tightly against his mouth.

 

*~*~*~*~*  


Spent, Elladan lay between his brother and Glorfindel as he fought to control his breathing and slow his racing heart.  He and Elrohir had been lovers since shortly past their majority, but even after nearly two millennia, it still filled them with amazement that their lovemaking continued to become better. 

His eyes were glassy with spent passion as he watched Elrohir and Glorfindel kiss fiercely, tongues and lips clashing wildly.  They were a study in light and dark: Glorfindel’s pale, golden, blue-eyed splendor a perfect complement for Elrohir’s ebony-haired, exotic beauty, his gray eyes turned almost midnight with yearning.

Glorfindel rolled Elrohir onto his back and stretched his tall form upon the younger Elf's nude body, kissing him deeply.  Golden tresses spilled across Elrohir’s lithe form as the warrior lowered his head and nipped Elrohir's neck with his teeth.  He opened his mouth wide to take in as much of the creamy flesh as he could and sucked hard, marking Elrohir just above the collarbone. 

Glorfindel chuckled wickedly at Elrohir's pained whimper.  He rose on hands and knees and slithered down Elrohir’s lean body, a great, golden lion on the prowl, feral and dangerous, wild tawny mane flowing about his head and a predatory glint in his eyes.  He kissed and licked a hot, moist trail down his lover’s torso and plunged his tongue into his navel, avoiding the swollen arousal lying hard and tight against Elrohir's stomach.

He laved the black ink scored in Elrohir's skin with hot wet strokes of his tongue, fascinated by the marking.  Warm breath teased Elrohir’s shaft, which strained and twitched at the promise of ecstasy within those lips, so close but altogether too far away. 

Standing, Glorfindel kept his eyes focused on the dark beauties entangled together.  He toed off his boots and kicked them carelessly under the bed before untying the lacings on his breeches.  He slid the soft leather slowly, sensuously down his lean hips, at last freeing his straining arousal.  His heavy length sprang free, bobbing hard and proud as he slid the garment past muscled thighs and stepped gracefully out of them.

Elladan claimed his twin’s bruised lips in a loving kiss, tasting his own seed. One hand toyed with the braids in Elrohir’s hair while the other traced slow, lazy circles around pebbled nipples.  Elrohir’s hands tangled in his elder brother’s hair, deepening their kiss.  His tongue explored the warm mouth that he knew so well.  At last they broke apart, breathing heavily.

The brethren drew their breath as one at the toned, pale form that stood before them.  The sight of Glorfindel half clothed was not especially unusual.  The captain of Imladris often sparred shirtless with his warriors, but neither had ever seen the golden Elf-lord in quite this light before.  Hard and needy.

Glorfindel’s thoughts followed a similar path as he admired the twins' lightly bronzed torsos.  The Peredhil were virtually identical, only the inked spots near their groins and their hair preferences made it possible to tell them apart tonight.  Elrohir wore a few small decorative braids studded with red beads in his raven locks; Elladan’s thick tresses fell nearly to the small of his back, loose and flowing.  The passion evident in their kiss was easily one of the most erotic, arousing things he had ever witnessed, and Glorfindel's body tingled with anticipation. 

Elladan noticed that the draperies covering the windows parted, allowing the warm night breezes to flow throughout the room.  “Glorfindel, draw the curtains please?  I would hate to think we were unwittingly giving Estel a show,” he said between kisses to the smooth skin of his brother’s neck.

Glorfindel glanced briefly at the darkened window and shrugged.  “Dear Estel was sleeping like a babe when I left him.  He will not be rising any time soon.”  He added smoothly, “Or perhaps he will wake, and believe playing with us is much preferable to sleep.”

“Glorfindel!” cried Elrohir.  “He is our brother!   _Oof_ …”  He winced as a sharp elbow jabbed him in the ribs.

“’Ro, I believe Glorfindel is, as the saying goes, ‘pulling your leg’,“ chided Elladan, who received an impressive impersonation of their father's raised eyebrow in response.

Glorfindel snorted with laughter as he reached for the twins’ extended hands, further thoughts of windows and draperies driven from their minds.  Elladan and Elrohir drew him to the bed to lie between them and urged him onto his back. All traces of humor were gone, replaced by looks of rapt interest as their eyes and hands roamed his body appraisingly.  Glorfindel closed his eyes and surrendered to the touches that meandered freely over the muscles of his chest and the plane of his stomach.

A warm mouth closed over his, the tongue teasing his lips before slipping inside.  He leaned up, straining, trying to deepen the kiss, but the wayward tongue withdrew and snaked across his cheek to then close over the gold ring piercing his left earlobe.  The mouth closed around it and gave a gentle tug before moving on.  A slow, torturous path was traced up the pink shell before closing over the elegant pointed tip and suckling gently.  Elladan… Elladan is on the left, he thought, distracted, as shivers wracked his frame.

A second warm, wet tongue teased his right nipple before sucking it in firmly.  That is Elrohir… Gods, his mouth is magic.  Fingernails lightly abraded the other pebbled nub and he drew his breath sharply between his teeth at the sensation.

“Wicked, both of you,” he managed to spit out, and received only matching throaty chuckles in reply.

He gasped when a strong hand closed suddenly over his leaking shaft and gave a quick, experimental stroke before quickly withdrawing.  Another warm hand gently cupped the soft pouch below his arousal and deftly massaged the firm orbs within.  He spread his legs wider, hips thrusting into empty air.  He yearned for contact, something to ease the fire than grew ever hotter in his loins.  He writhed on the bed and whimpered softly as trails of slick heat traced paths over his ribs, down his abdomen, leaving paths of kisses and nips in their wake.

Hands fondled and caressed his body, following the lines of muscles that were hard and strong from years of training.  Calloused fingertips pinched and tweaked his aching nipples.  Glorfindel soon lost track of which hands and lips belonged to which of his lovers as they mercilessly teased him to the brink of insanity, with only an occasional touch to the pulsing, throbbing member that lay taut against his stomach.

He keened softly as his weeping arousal was suddenly engulfed in a hot, wet mouth.  He thrust his hips, trying to gain further entry into that heat, but hands pressed his pelvis firmly against the bed.  Reluctantly he stilled his motion, his body at the sensual mercy of his raven-haired lovers.

One mouth sucked him relentlessly, drawing up the length just to the round crown before plunging back down nearly to the fine, soft hair that dusted the base.  A second mouth nestled deeply between his widespread legs lapping at his sac, drawing first one fleshy orb into his mouth, then the other.

His hands clawed at the sheets; his body twisted of its own accord.  He sought to end the delicious assault on his senses as he was brought to the edge of orgasm and back.  Six… seven times; he had long since lost count.  Each wave of pleasure transported him closer and closer to that pinnacle, so close but never quite within reach.

Glorfindel had taken lovers over the millennia, but never in his long years had he been overcome by such raging, consuming fire.  His cries were pleading, incoherent, as he wept and begged for something, anything to end the furious inferno that ripped through him.

“Ai, please, Elladan… Elrohir… end this, I need to come,  _please_ …” Glorfindel's words were broken and harsh with need as he strained upward into that glorious heat.  His arousal wept steadily, balls drawn up tight to his body, aching for release.

He cried aloud in dismay as the hot mouth encircling his shaft was suddenly withdrawn and the warm heat teasing his sac disappeared **,** leaving him painfully hard and quivering with unspent desire.

“Not yet, eager one,” one of his lovers whispered, grasping his straining erection firmly by the base and gripping tightly.  Glorfindel stilled his motions and struggled to regain some control of his body.

Somewhere in the last remaining fiber of conscious he registered the quiet scraping of a drawer being opened and the dull clink of glass.  Then cool liquid trickled along his erection, a strong finger following the slick rivulets through the downy blond hair, over the tight sac drawn close to his body, and traveling lower to the puckered entrance below.  The finger traced a circle around the pink, wrinkled flesh that quivered in anticipation.  A single digit inched slowly into that tight channel and stopped at the first knuckle.

Glorfindel groaned, then hissed in frustration at the gentle penetration when the finger stubbornly refused to advance.  He pushed down and impaled himself fully on the finger straight to the knuckle.  He heard a low chuckle from one of the twins before Elladan whispered, “Oh my, you are an impatient one.”

A second finger joined the first, stretching and scissoring.  A third was quickly added, twisting and circling, searching for the tiny nub that would bring so much delight.  Glorfindel gasped as the questing fingers found their target, stroking and rubbing as his lover worked his body as it had never been before and brought him to heights he’d never imagined possible.

He forced open eyelids heavy with passion as Elrohir spoke softly.  “We would have you now, Glorfindel, if you would permit us.  Do you have a preference?  Would you have me take you, or would you prefer my brother’s touch?”

The golden warrior moistened his lips and struggled to speak, his eyes glazed dark with passion as he gazed down his over sensitized body.  He met Elrohir's  smoldering eyes, fingers still embedded deeply within him.  His voice was husky and raw with need.  “I would have you, Elrohir.”

“Aye, my love, as you wish.”  Elrohir leaned into his brother, keeping his fingers in place.  He plundered Elladan’s mouth in a heated kiss before pulling back and instructing his twin to lean against the headboard.

Elladan groaned in frustration as he extricated himself from the tangle of limbs and moved to the head of the bed.  He lay back against the pillows and slowly began stroking his weeping erection, never pulling his eyes from his brother.

_Do not fret, tôren, we will not forget about you._ Elrohir’s silent admonishment was slightly teasing when he gave his brother a roguish wink. 

Elrohir removed his fingers and knelt between Glorfindel’s knees.  “Raise your legs, love,” he instructed, then rested Glorfindel's feet against his shoulders.  The tiny pink opening was fully exposed, slightly open and glistening with slick oil.  The position afforded deep, strong penetration, something Elrohir would never consider with a less experienced lover.  He braced Glorfindel's feet firmly, and coated his own length with the viscous fluid before tossing the vial to his brother, who caught it one-handed.

He moved forward and positioned himself at the entrance to Glorfindel’s body.  With a steady, long, slow push he buried himself balls-deep.

Glorfindel tensed at the sudden intrusion, keening softly at the burning sensation as he willed his body to relax.  The strong muscles of his passage constricted tightly against the invading flesh. 

Elrohir squeezed his eyes shut and fought against the need to begin thrusting into that magnificent body.   _Mordor’s flames, El, he is so wonderfully tight._

Elrohir’s voice was strangled with barely-controlled need. "Tell me when you are ready, beautiful one.”  He forced himself to remain motionless, his body quaking, to allow his lover’s body to become accustomed to his size. 

Glorfindel breathed deeply for a few moments, the tension slowly seeping from his body.  Gradually the discomfort gave way to a feeling of fullness as the tight ring of muscle relaxed, and finally he nodded.

Remaining deeply embedded, Elrohir slowly began to move in small thrusts.  Glorfindel winced slightly, his lips pursed.  Elrohir changed his angle slightly and brushed against the nub inside that tight channel, sending a bolt of white heat through Glorfindel's body and sparks behind his eyelids.  His eyes flew open wide as he arched his neck and yelped in pleasure.

“Ah, yes… Elrohir…” Glorfindel moaned, rolling his head side to side as his lover began longer thrusts, taking care to brush that pleasure spot only every second or third stroke. 

“Your sighs and moans are enthralling, lovely one **.**   I would have you cry my name a hundred times and still crave to hear more,” Elrohir murmured, thrusting slowly and deeply into Glorfindel’s body.

Glorfindel's hands thrummed helplessly against the sheets, desperate to touch and bring himself to completion.  He was unable to get his hands between their bodies to stroke his aching arousal, and finally gripped Elrohir’s forearms tightly as his lover rocked into him, long and deep. 

_Are you enjoying yourself, my love?_

It took a moment for Elrohir to realize that Elladan was addressing him.  It was becoming increasingly difficult to breath, let alone think as he moved within Glorfindel's tight heat.   Elrohir raked his eyes over Elladan’s form, lounged against the headboard and slowly pleasuring himself as he watched them.

_Aye, tôren, very much so,_ Elrohir agreed.   _You, however, look a bit lonely, although you do present a fetching vision as you pleasure yourself._  Making a sudden decision, Elrohir spoke into his twin’s mind and allowed his brother a vision of what he had in mind.

Elladan’s eyes widened as he saw the mental picture his twin showed him, and grinned wolfishly.   _Aye, I can do that._

Glorfindel barked in surprise when Elrohir's hand suddenly smacked him soundly on the bottom and pulled out abruptly.  “Up you go, gorgeous.  On your hands and knees.”

Glorfindel protested at the loss of the thick length filling him and grudgingly rolled over, raising his trembling body to rest upon hands and knees.  His dusky arousal hung heavily between his thighs, untouched and weeping.  He dropped his chin to his chest, veiling his flushed and sweating face with hair that clung to his damp skin.  He wiggled his bottom in encouragement and rocked backward searching for Elrohir.  He tossed his head to flick the clinging hair from his face and lifted his head.

And stared.

Elladan lay at the head of the bed, his upper body supported by pillows, but he lay with knees bent to the side, his pink puckered opening completely exposed to view.  As his audience watched in lustful attention, he upended the vial and drizzled a trickle of oil over his fingers.  He licked his lips and reached behind him to slide a slick finger into his backside, moaning as he pumped in and out, then slid a second in beside the first.  His eyes rolled back in bliss as he rocked his hips, riding his own fingers.  A third was added to the slippery passage, stretching and lubricating, and he lowered his gaze and stared piercingly at Glorfindel, a silent challenge issuing from his gray eyes.

Elrohir pressed a kiss against the small of Glorfindel’s back before kneeling behind and sheathing himself again in the captain's tight channel.  Elrohir languorously swayed against his lover as he watched Elladan’s preparation with keen interest.  As familiar with his brother’s body as he was his own, Elrohir knew Glorfindel would not last long sheathed in Elladan’s sinful depths.

Elladan withdrew his fingers and slinked with feline grace toward Glorfindel, and then captured his lips in a searing kiss.  His tongue swirled around Glorfindel’s wet heat, chasing and teasing before he finally pulled back, leaving the captain panting.  He lapped at the Elf-lord’s sweat-slicked neck, then opened his mouth wide just below Glorfindel's ear and sucked hard, leaving a dark passion mark.

Glorfindel gasped as his overheated skin was sucked and pulled.  Elladan whispered mischievously against his ear, “Consider that retribution for marking my beautiful brother,” before giving a final lick to the tip of the pointed ear and moving away.

Elrohir lifted Glorfindel almost upright, while Elladan turned and wriggled backward.  Glorfindel took his own erection in hand and pressed the blunt head against Elladan’s slick opening.

Elladan slowly pushed back, impaling himself upon Glorfindel’s flesh.  At that moment, Elrohir thrust sharply, propelling Glorfindel forward to sheath himself fully in Elladan’s tight passage.  Elladan was well prepared and was able to accept Glorfindel’s ample length easily and with little discomfort, murmuring appreciation as Glorfindel’s thick shaft filled him.

Their position was awkward, but with a bit of wiggling and repositioning, the lovers managed to settle into a configuration that worked reasonably well.

Elrohir set a brutal pace, able no longer to hold back his ardor.  He tangled his hands through Glorfindel’s glorious locks and pounded roughly into the ivory body beneath him.  He withdrew almost fully before plunging back in to the hilt.  His breath came in panting gasps, words of passion in Elvish and Westron spilling from his lips as he drove his lovers ever closer to their peaks.

Glorfindel met Elrohir's thrusts eagerly with frantic counter-thrusts of his own, each forward motion sheathing his heated flesh again and again into Elladan’s velvet depths.  Each of Elrohir’s strokes sent white heat through his loins, bringing him closer and closer to that elusive release and forcing a mewl of desire from his lips.  Fell and desperate, he was almost mad with need.  Liquid fire tore through his veins, his mind void of all thought save putting an end to this sweet agony. 

Elladan, pinned almost motionless by the solid weight of two bodies atop his, braced his arms against the bed, helpless to do anything but revel in the sensation of being filled by Glorfindel’s heavy length.  His own second release was close and the only thing he could do was lie passively, struggling to breathe, and allow his mind to wander through that of his brother’s, their ever-present connection strong now.  It fascinated him to mentally hear his twin’s garbled, random bits of conscious bleed through unadulterated need.  And the waves of raw lust that roiled around the periphery of Glorfindel's mind was enough to take what remained of his breath away and propel him closer to his own completion.

In the throes of passion, Glorfindel opened his mind to his lovers and allowed the three to meld as they neared their climaxes.  He reached his release first, his long-denied orgasm tearing through his body, a hoarse shout ripped from his chest.  Tremors wracked his long frame as he pumped deep into Elladan’s body.  His body shuddered with spasms of bliss, nearly blinding him with its intensity.  His inner muscles clenched with the force of his orgasm, wrenching a mind-blowing climax from Elrohir.

Elrohir threw back his head and howled as he was hurled over the edge, eyes clenched tightly.  He thrust hard into Glorfindel's quivering passage, straining, his seed flooding the captain's body in hot spurts. 

Elladan’s own release closely followed.  The swirling maelstrom of lust from his lovers that flooded his mind was enough to send him plummeting into the abyss.  He spilled himself onto the sheets with a long groan, his member untouched but for the friction of the bed coverings beneath him.

Spent and exhausted, they collapsed to the bed, sweaty and sticky with the evidence of their passion.  They lay entangled, dark against light, panting as they struggled to catch their breath.

Elrohir relaxed into the warmth surrounding him as strong arms encircled him from front and behind.  He wrapped his arms around his brother and leaned his head back, nestling the crown of his head under Glorfindel’s chin.  Glorfindel kissed the top of his head and snuggled closer, his softening member pressed firmly against the cleft of Elrohir’s buttocks.  The younger twin felt the steady thumping of his brother’s heart against his, echoed by Glorfindel’s beating steadily against his back.  He felt a sense of perfect contentment. 

Elrohir snuggled closer to the warmth of his body as they whispered words of love and affection to one another.  How odd, each thought, that a simple game of cards and a ridiculous wager could end up in a moment such as this?  They did not know what the morrow would bring, but for now, the night was enough.

Sated and content, the three drifted off to sleep as the candles sputtered and went out, leaving only Ithil’s pale light to bathe them in a soft glow. 

*~*~*~*~*

Anor had nearly reached her zenith by the time Estel rolled from his bed, mussed and tangled and sticky from his own seed.  He washed and dressed quickly before hurrying to the dining hall to belatedly break his fast.

His brothers and Glorfindel were absent, he noted with mixed dismay and relief as he filled a plate with light fare and settled into a quiet alcove.  He ate slowly, deep in thought, memories of the evening before fresh in his mind.  At last he sighed deeply and rose, setting out in search of his foster brothers.

“…ing, Estel.”  Lost in his musings, he started when he heard Erestor's  melodious voice addressing him.  “I bring word from Elladan and Elrohir.  They have gone hunting and bade me inform you they knocked upon your chamber door early this morn.  When you did not answer, they allowed you to sleep and said they will join you this eve in the Hall of Fire.”

“Thank you, Erestor,” Estel answered, dipping his head and resting his right fist upon his heart.  “And Lord Glorfindel?  Did he join them as well?” 

“Nay, he has been closeted with Lord Elrond most of the morning with the ambassadors of Lothlórien.  I am just now on my way to join them,” Erestor replied, and bid Estel a good day before taking his leave.

Estel greeted Lady Gilraen in the hallway and spoke with her briefly before retiring again to his chambers, ready to spend a day of quiet contemplation.  As dusk drew nigh he grew restive and determined a walk by the river would remedy the unsettled feeling that lingered within him.

He strolled through the glades of Imladris, relishing the lingering warmth of Anor’s light caressing his skin as she descended over the horizon.  Refreshed, he sang softly to himself.

“…And suddenly even as he sang he saw a maiden walking on a greensward among the white stems of the birches; and he halted amazed, thinking that he had strayed into a dream, or else that he had received the gift of the Elf-minstrels, who can make the things of which they sing appear before the eyes of those that listen. 

For [he] had been singing a part of the Lay of Lúthien which tells of the meeting of Lúthien and Beren in the forest of Neldoreth.  And behold! there Lúthien walked before his eyes in Rivendell, clad in a mantle of silver and blue, fair as the twilight in Elven-home; her dark hair strayed in a sudden wind, and her brows were bound with gems like stars.” 1

Estel, Aragorn, Arathorn’s son, Isildur’s heir, Lord of the Dúnedain, had found his enduring passion.

_~*~*~ finis ~*~*~_

 1 —J.R.R. Tolkien,  _The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King_ , Appendix A, “The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen”

 

To be continued in the sequel ‘Learning the Game’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And whoa, I wrote an entire NC-17 story without once using the words fuck, cock, or ass. Go me. :)


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